TICEES by Shae Mills Page A

achieved. It was stunning.
    Chelan moved back toward the bedroom and saw Dredon sprawled on the floor and Fremma reclined in his chair, both engaged in idle conversation. She looked down at herself one last time, took a deep breath, and stepped out into the suite.
    Both men looked up at the same time, and both their faces registered the same awestruck expression. Fremma was the first to move, and he stood slowly. Dredon followed, picking himself up off the floor awkwardly.
    Chelan flowed toward them, and then, holding her arms out, she turned full circle. Fremma was still speechless. The ruched pink material hugged her ample curves, the sleeveless gown enticingly low over her breasts in a sweetheart neckline.
    Fremma’s mouth went dry, and he swallowed hard as he took a tentative step toward her. The fitted bodice smoothed over her slim, curvaceous hips. The skirt was voluminous, hanging in long, flowing gathers, adding an additional subtle hint of seductive femininity.
    Chelan moved again, the train kissing the floor and spreading out behind her, dutifully following her elegant footsteps. Chelan stopped in front of them and curtsied, bowing her head demurely. “Does it befit me, my dear Fremma?” she asked quietly.
    Dredon’s eyes snapped to Fremma’s, but both warriors were mute. Fremma watched her, and he shook his head. “You are beyond words, my Lady,” he whispered. His eyes moved up and down her slender torso, settling momentarily on the beautiful cleavage tantalizingly exposed. His gaze flickered to hers. “The first thing that comes to mind … is the extreme security problem you are going to create upon your entrance.”
    Chelan smiled and turned to Dredon. “Well, it’s your masterpiece, too. What do you think?”
    “Oh no, my Lady. I refuse any credit. I was only a tool in the construction. After all, it is you who makes the gown so beautiful. It is you that is the masterpiece.”
    Chelan immediately blushed and looked down at the floor while she collected herself. Then she glanced through her thick lashes at Fremma. “Are you people trained to say the right things at the right time, or is it innate? Your ability to flatter time after time is nothing short of incredible.”
    Fremma shook his head, smiling. “No, my pretty woman. We only flatter where flattery is due, and only a fool would behold you in that gown and not comment on your beauty. As you can see, Dredon is no fool.”
    Chelan squirmed again, the flush across her cheeks deepening at Fremma’s comment. Then her deep brown eyes met his. “Oh, Fremma, the back of the gown is so beautiful, and my hair covers it too much. When you used to train me, you always put my hair up so nicely. Will you do that for me?”
    Fremma stepped around her and looked at the back of her gown. The soft pink material was cut low, the opening tapering to a smooth curve at her lower back. “The gown is lovely, Chelan, but so is your long hair. I would not dare to bind it.”
    “Oh no, Fremma,” she corrected. “I would just like the sides drawn up and centered down the back, just so it stays off my shoulders and reveals a bit of the gown.”
    Dredon watched with curiosity as Fremma approached her. He separated out the long locks of hair at the sides of her head and drew them up. Then expertly he sectioned out a long strand with which to bind them. When he was finished, he allowed the long pieces of hair to fall gracefully down the center of her back.
    Chelan turned and skipped to the en suite mirror. “That’s perfect,” she cried. She peeked back out at Dredon. “What’s next?”
    “That’s up to you, my Lady. I’ll bind all the exposed edges with the laser if the length is appropriate, and then you can begin the decorating if you wish.”
    Chelan smiled and stepped out of sight of the men to remove the gown. She slipped back into her white gown and returned to them. She handed the dress to Dredon. “Could I start tomorrow?”
    Dredon nodded. “I will